


Cast Off

by RyMagnatar



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Future, M/M, age gap, more space time adventures, non-game au, space shuttles and automatic cars and everything, very large age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:10:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyMagnatar/pseuds/RyMagnatar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance encounter in a bar leads to a drastic change in scenery and lifestyle. Dave is attracted to a much older troll by the name of Eridan Ampora. The attraction and fascination is mutual, and the two of them decide, spur of the moment, to do something crazy. </p><p>Dave decides that he'd rather not be cast off and abandoned and Eridan provides a way out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cast Off

_Rose is the last one to leave, kissing your cheek gently as she slides off of her seat at the bar next to you. She offers, one last time, a ride home. Says her boyfriend won’t mind, never minds, helping out a friend. But you wave her off and tell her to go home. You’ll have the bartender call you a cab. You’ll be fine. She sighs but when her boyfriend appears in the doorway, she starts walking away._

_You smile a little, watching as they embrace and he leads her out to his car. Then you turn to the bartender and ask for another drink._

* * *

It’s an hour by yourself, occasionally exchanging a line of conversation with the bartender- turns out his name is Jake and he’s not so bad of a guy, really—before anyone interesting shows up to change your night. When you say interesting, you mean _interesting_. You’re waiting for Jake to finish mixing a drink for someone else before asking for another when the door opens.

You’ve got a little drunken curiosity, so you turn and you look. You do a quick double-take, because trolls are uncommon in a bar like this one and then a triple-take when you see something suspiciously like fins flicker beside his head. He catches your eye, or at least the reflection of your shades, and you offer a little smile.

Around the bar, other people are looking at him with frowns, or even scowls. There was a reason trolls didn’t come around to this bar too often. So you take the step forward that you really wouldn’t do if you weren’t progressing towards really drunk and you pat the stool next to you in invitation.

That seems to be enough for the troll. He adjusts his shirt collar a little and walks across the room like he has purpose to being there. He touches your elbow as he takes his seat, turned slightly towards you, acting as though you two know each other. For some reason your heart begins to beat faster.

The troll orders something for himself and then says to Jake, “and another for him too, on me.” He gestures to you when he says it. You smirk to Jake as he shakes his head with a little chuckle. He makes your drinks as you lean your elbows on the bar and put your chin in your palm. You look at this sea troll from up close, and figure he doesn’t mind because he’s looking at you the same way.

This one’s horns are two jagged lightning bolts sticking out from his hair and sweeping back. The one on the left has a chunk of the horn missing from the tip, but it looks like an old injury.

His hair is mostly black, except for a little bit of purple at the forehead and some silvery grey by his fins. They look a little beat up and the one nearest you has a scar across the top corner as though something tried to bite a chunk out of it, but they’re definitely fins. His eyes are purple, that deep pretty purple of Rose’s mom’s dresses and so you know this isn’t just any troll (though the fins were enough to tell you that). He’s got a good chin and a small smile, but looks like he spends most of his time frowning with the wrinkles he’s got deepening around his mouth.

His shoulders are broad. In fact, his whole body is broad and tall, taller than you, bigger than you in many ways. But then you had always been small for a man, even at twenty four you were a small guy.

He also leans his arms on the table, leaning in until the two of you are huddled together like two co-conspirators. You notice that his suit coat looks like it’s tailored to fit him and he’s wearing a bow tie. It’s the corsage on the front of his jacket that gives away where he just came from, though.

“You look a little too old for prom. So must have been a wedding, am I right?” You take your drink in your hands, liking the cool feel of the iced vodka and apple juice.

He touches the ruddy red rose on his suit coat and laughs softly, “My moirail got human married.”

You chuckle, trying to recover from the sound of his voice. He talks softly, but with the weight in his voice that bespeaks authority. It’s not that which you catch on, though, but the subtle accent. It sounds totally inhuman, a linking of vowels and sounds that only a troll set of pipes, tongue and teeth can make. You want to hear him talk more. “Congratulations to them. I’d buy you a drink to celebrate but seeing has you’ve already done so for me, it’ll have to wait a bit I guess.”

He lifts his glass to his lips. You’re hyper aware of this guy already, watching as he swallows a mouthful, watching as his dark lips part, watching him watch you. “Mind if I ask the name of the man I’m buying a drink for?”

“So you know what to shout later?” The words drop from your drunken tongue before you can think twice about them, and before you can realize this isn’t some college girl who’s been flirting with you but a fully fucking grown troll.

He smiles and you see the edge of sharp teeth under those lips, “In that case, I think you would be more interested in knowing my name.” He tilts his head to the side slightly and you can feel that casual watching get an edge to it, “My name is Eridan Ampora.”

Sparks flare into life in your brain, but the gears don’t grind together into life. You fake it, though, oh god do you fake it. You gasp and hold up your hand in surprise, “No. It couldn’t be! You’ve got to be fucking with me. I mean your likeness is uncanny, but I never would have guessed.”

It’s like you can see the disinterest growing on his face, the smile turning down into a frown, the weight he’s putting on his arms to lean forward is suddenly being withdrawn. So you laugh, and laugh loudly, you lean in to make up the new distance and say, “I’m fucking with you buddy. I got no fucking clue who you are. Does it matter? Are you famous?” You squint at him. He’s well-dressed enough to be rich.

He shakes his head, “Sort of.”

“Well _I_ am Dave Strider,” you jerk your thumb to your chest, “And if you were around here enough you’d know who I was. So I won’t take offense because you are clearly a fish out of water here.”

“That was an awful pun,” he mutters, but it’s with amusement. You’ve got him back on your side now, leaning in and interested.

“Well it’s true, isn’t it? Walking into a human bar, especially this one. Full of racist assholes loitering around muttering to themselves about back in their day when they’re only thirty five, the little fuckers.” You gesture around the room. “A lot of the nearby college feeds into this pub, but usually on a Tuesday it’s the philosophical kind who think it makes them more poignant to have a beer in hand.”

“And what brings you here in the middle of the week? Philosophy doesn’t sound like your interests.” You like the way he looks at you. You could stand to have those eyes looking at you more and more.

“Two buddies of mine are shipping off tomorrow afternoon.” It’s a sore subject, and makes your chest hurt a little just saying it out loud. “The four of us have been together since we were kids and they’re off joining the space academy program. He’s enlisting, hoping to be an officer soon, and she’s going into research.” You look down to the glass in your hand, “Soon it will be just Rose and I… but I know Rose.” You take a deep drink from your glass. With the cool rim of the cup against your lower lip, you can’t help but mumble, “She won’t stay here much longer. Not when there’s a whole bunch of fucking worlds out there to see firsthand…”

You tip the glass back, draining the last of the alcohol from it. Putting it down with a thump, you ask, “I know you just got here, but do you want to leave?”

Eridan gives you a strange look and then shrugs. “Sure.” He opens his wallet and pulls out a bill large enough to cover not only your drinks, but all of your friends, if they hadn’t paid before they left. Dropping it on the counter, he stands up and gives you his fucking arm. You laugh and hold onto it, because why the fuck not? He leads you out of the bar and out into the night.

* * *

_“Didn’t catch the name, no ma’m. He was with a sea troll, though. Horns like lightning bolts. I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before, probably would recognize him again if I did see him. You think that might be the guy?” You lean your hip against the bar counter._

_The blonde girl tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Probably. And you’re certain that you saw Dave leave with this troll?”_

_“Absolutely. Arm in arm those two were.” You’re apologetic that you can’t help her any further. She looks so worried._

_“All right, thank you. Please, here’s my number, call me if you figure out who that troll is, or see him or Dave again.” She pushes over a small business card._

_You nod your head and tucks it away, “Good luck.”_

* * *

You offer to take him to your hotel room, but he insists taking you back home to his apartment. Your yellow cab is sitting in the parking lot already and the two of you slide into the back seat. It takes a try or two to get his address out of him correctly, for sure, so you can punch it into the computer. The automated system kicks into life and begins to drive the two of you down the street.

You turn your attention to the human boy, who’s reclining in his chair, looking at you with a smile that says way too damn much, you think, and is far too fucking beautiful for his own good. He gestures you to come closer, so you lean in. He smiles broader with his pretty pink lips and says, “Mr. Ampora, you’re not going to leave me so soon after we get there, are you?”

His hand reaches up and curls around the lapel of your suit coat. You don’t say what you’re thinking, which is you don’t know how you’re ever going to leave behind this little human, but instead say, “Of course not. I’ll stick around until you get sick of me.” You tentatively reach up and cup his cheek.

You haven’t felt this kind of a connection with someone else in years, in _years_ upon years. You feel as though you want to drown yourself in him, though you’ve only barely touched his elbow, his cheek, his arm. You still haven’t even seen his eyes properly. You know your moirail would sigh heavily at you and smack the back of your head, telling you how foolish it was to grow so attached to a pretty little human gem while on leave.

You had only gotten a week off, and tonight was your last night planet side.

“Then you’re gonna have to pull a lot of shit for that to happen,” Dave’s saying with his mumbled drunk mouth, the mouth you want to kiss into silence. “Because I’m finding myself a pretty fucking tolerable guy where you’re concerned.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

He stares at you for a second; like he didn’t hear you ask him the question. You’re about to repeat it when he pushes himself up and kisses you. You hold back your urge to devour him whole and instead match his soft, hesitant kiss with one of your own. All the champagne at the wedding has really gone to your head, or else he’s got a greater effect on you than you realized because your mind is swirling and lightheaded.

He leans back and whispers, “You’ve got the most amazing eyes.”

* * *

_“You know he wouldn’t miss this, not even if he was out cold. You’ve seen him wake from a dead sleep and be ready in five minutes to get to class, all without an alarm. Dave doesn’t need alarms. He’s his own clock. He knew about this, he wouldn’t forget.” Jade’s going on and on but you’re looking at Rose. Rose who’s frowning and saying nothing._

_“What is it, Rose?” you cut off your cousin’s rambling words._

_“I left him alone at the bar afterwards.” She’s surprisingly slow with the words, as though she’s still working it over in her mind. As if she still can’t believe what she knows to be true. You remember the last time she was like that, when she was telling Dave that the hospital called. When she had been the one to tell him that he needed to go down there. It wasn’t looking like his brother would make it out of surgery._

_“You left him at the bar, and?” You prompt her, hoping it’s not as bad as the hospital time._

_She looks up at you with a troubled expression. “The bartender saw him leave. Saw him leave with a troll. A **sea** troll nonetheless. And before I went there I went to Dave’s apartment but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there and neither was his backpack or that sword. You know the one.”_

_“His brother’s sword,” Jade says the words that neither of you two can. Rose nods._

_You look at the girls and then up towards the door to the airport. “He’s not coming.”_

_Rose closes her eyes, nodding. She clenches her mouth shut. You can tell when she holds back her tears and she’s doing so right now._

_Jade reaches out her hand and grabs yours. She grabs Rose’s hand too and whispers, “He’s already gone, isn’t he?”_

_There’s no reason to say yes to a question you all know the answer to._

* * *

Eridan’s quiet when you walk him into your apartment. There’s stuff everywhere. You’ve lived in this apartment since you were five years old, there was no place like it. You went to highschool from here, commuted to college from here, everything. You gesture around at the swords and the left over puppets that you could never throw out and say, “This is it!”

He looks down. He bends over and scoops up a smuppet. He squeezes it around the middle in his hand and then chuckles, “These would make a fine pile, if not for these little bits,” he flicks the nose with a finger.

You laugh and turn around, walking deeper into your home. Everything here reminds you of something. Reminds you of Bro or your friends, reminds you of all the years you spent here. You are your things. Your things are your history. You don’t know why you really want to share that with Eridan.

But he doesn’t seem disgusted or put off in anyway. He just curiously touches things, exploring his way out through your apartment like it’s some sort of bizarre adventure. You figure he’ll get tired of poking around and you’ll get tired of watching him soon enough, but he makes his way through your kitchen, front room and to your bedroom before you realize that you’re still watching and he’s still poking.

You sit on your bed, watching him with a little smile, when he finally steps close enough to reach. You take his hand and pull gently. To bed, you want to tell him but can’t find the words, to bed! You needed to feel more of him.

He chuckles and shrugs out of that suit coat like it is made of ink, leaving it pooled on the floor. He takes a step forward and then a step back. He bends down and you watch as he unpins the rose from his coat. He’s kneeling beside the bed and you’re sitting there looking at him and in his grey hand he holds out this tired old flower. You take in a breath- to laugh, you’re certain, because this is so fucking ridiculous- and find you can’t do it. You can’t laugh at those violet eyes. They’re too sincere.

Your cheeks heat up as you take the rose gently. This is stupid, you tell yourself over and over, as you take his hand in yours and pull again, more insistently. This is fucking stupid, your heart is beating impossibly fast in your chest and you’re holding that rose as if it actually means something.

He rests a knee on the bed, still not doing what you want him to do. You want him on top of you. You want his weight and his body and you want _him_ and he isn’t doing it right. But for all your complaints, the soft kisses he gives you, while his hands hold onto your jaw, are more than perfect. He leans in, pushing you down slowly.

When you’re lying on the bed, he kneels back up. He takes off his tie, then his vest. By the button down shirt, you’ve figured out what’s going on and you’re squirming out of your own shirt.

He gets to his belt, takes it off, and then stops. When you go for your pants with both hands, the rose tucked safely between your teeth, he stops you. He puts his hands over your wrists and holds them in place. Then he leans in and you can feel his breath on your neck, your ear, as he whispers, “You’re very drunk, Dave.”

You can’t speak. If you open your mouth to talk the rose will fall. It was your very first true gift from him. You can’t give it up.

“You’re very drunk,” he repeats, “and I’d rather not have our first time be with me tipsy and you drunk. So if you please, we’re going to sleep now.”

Your hands relax. You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eyes. He’s serious. He’s fucking serious about this.

You meet his gaze behind your glasses and see the spark of something flare up in his eyes. He kisses your cheek and says one last thing before he pulls his head up.

“I love your eyes.”

* * *

_The door is unlocked when you arrive. There’s only one reason you can think of for that and you go in expecting a hungover and unhappy Dave. The kitchen is empty, as well as the living room, and there’s no fresh trail of stripped clothing, so you aren’t expecting to see any company as you look into his bedroom._

_But that room is empty as well. You frown to yourself and go to check the bathroom._

_No one there either._

_You’re turning to leave when you notice something._

_His toothbrush is missing. Upon closer inspection, so are his favorite hair products._

_So is the picture of the four of you he taped to the mirror._

_You go to his bedroom next and rip open the door to his closet. You look for his favorite shirts, his favorite jacket, his favorite shoes. It’s all missing. So is the suitcase he keeps at the bottom. You check his drawers. Half his socks are missing, his stash of cash is gone as well. So is his passport._

_You look around the room, searching for it, the thing he would never leave behind, the thing that he would take to his grave-_

_There was the empty display case on his dresser._

_Bro’s sword. That un-fucking-breakable katana. Gone._

_You sit down heavily on his bed and look around the room that is all Dave and yet not Dave at all anymore. He isn’t here anymore. He’s abandoned his apartment. Why did he go? Why today? Who did he go with? Where did he go?_

_Was he going to come back?_

_You sigh and put your hands on the bed to help push yourself up. Your hand touches something soft. You grab it and lift it up._

_It’s the single petal of a red rose._

* * *

You wake up with your arm around a chest and your lips pressed against soft blond hair. You blink away the sleep from your eyes and reach over to your shoulder to pull off the sopor patch. You’re going to have to be as coherent as possible to deal with this morning.

You push yourself up slightly and when you look down you realize that he’s awake.

Dave looks up at you with dark red eyes and no visible expression. You look down with a lump in your throat. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing your eyes. How are you going to tell him what you are? How are you going to tell him about your responsibilities, your restrictions, and your--

“I remember who you are now.”

You blink your eyes open. He sits up too, facing you. He pulls his knees up to his chest and folds his arms over them. “You’re not just any old sea troll. You’re a general.” He stops. He corrects himself. “No. You’re _the_ general. The general of the armies of our miserable, fucked up federation of races.”

You nod your head.

He stares at you for a while. When he turns away, you expect him to reach for his glasses, but instead he picks up the bit of rose that he put on the nightstand and turns it in his fingers. You’re unsure what to say. You must leave, but you do not wish to. You wish that this wasn’t the time you had met him. Perhaps in a couple of months, when you could extend your leave a little, when you didn’t need to return to work so quickly, that would have been a better time.

But would he have been here?

“I have to return to duty tonight.” You say softly. “My ship is in orbit right now, docked at the space station.”

He won’t look at you. He just stares at the rose in his hand.

“Perhaps I can come back in a few months and visit you?” It sounds like a lie even to you. You’ll get busy. You’ll get busy and half a galaxy away you’ll forget this little human that you think you’ve fallen in love with. He shakes his head.

You sigh and rub your hand over your face. “In either case, I have to go now.”

You slide off the bed and start redressing, belt and shirt, vest and suit coat. There’s a pin in your lapel, but no rose to go with it. You look down at him, still sitting on the bed not looking at you. What is he thinking? What is he feeling? He’s more closed off sober than he is drunk. Even without those shades on you can’t tell.

You leave the room to go to the bathroom, feeling like a piece of shit. You can’t even do one night stands right. After all these years, you still couldn’t just have a fling and get it over with. It always had to become something; you always had to want more than sex. Last time you had found your moirail that way, picking her up in a way station by chance. She was a hitchhiker, willing to do what she had to do to see the stars.

The general of armies had a softer heart than he really should, to the lost little strays of the universe. It was something that the empress had teased you about for years. It was the reason she had put you in charge directly under her, with almost as much control. Your soft heart was your blessing and your curse.

You step out of the bathroom and there he’s standing, shades on his face and rose stem clutched in his hand, “You are a fucking piece of work. You show up, sweep me up off my feet and into bed. But you don’t even have the decency to give me a good fuck before you fly away in your spaceship, never to fucking return! Oh I’ll see you in a few months, _Dave_. Oh I’ll write you _every_ day, _Dave_. Oh don’t _worry_ , I’ll come down for Christmas, for your birthday, for long weekends, _Dave_. I won’t _forget_ you. When I’m swamped in my finals in fucking space school and discovering new planets it just won’t be the same because you won’t be there, _Dave_.

“Just go on and fucking leave me then. Leave me the fuck behind like everyone else. Everyone is leaving, everyone is going to go. Why should you be any different?” He cuts himself off with a shuddered breath. It sounds more like a sob than anything else. He dips his head down, “Everyone just leaves me behind.”

“Come with me.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. You wouldn’t take them back if you could. You step forward and put your hands on his shoulders, “If you want to. You can. Come with me. Come see space and every world in between. You can have whatever you want; I’ll get it for you.”

You lean in, pressing your forehead to his, “Come with me, Dave. I will not leave you behind.”

He lifts his chin. You think he means to kiss you, but instead he’s just breathing the same air as you. You want that to happen all the time. He looks at you. Or you think he does. You can only see your reflection in his glasses.

“All you have to say is yes,” you whisper, “Just say yes and I’ll take you with me wherever I go.”

His free hand grips your suit coat tightly. “Yes,” it’s as soft as a breath, “Please.”

* * *

_“Did you guys know that the General of Armies is on this shuttle?” You overhear a cluster of new recruits say. You poke your head into the group for a better listen. “I saw him myself!”_

_“Really? That’s amazing!” someone else says._

_“Yeah right. Why would he come to a backwards place like this? We’re joining the army so we can leave this backwater planet, remember.”_

_“You know they say his moirail came from the same city we just left,” you chirp in with your own knowledge of the general. “Could be that he came for something related to that!”_

_They turn to look at you, some curious, some haughty. The one who said they saw the general asks, “How do you know that?”_

_“I’ve got my ways,” you grin, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “It’s common knowledge though. She’s rumored to have even gone to my highschool. A wicked smart rustblood with more interest in the relics of space than anything else. She was hitch hiking across the stars when the general found her. Or so they say.”_

_There are a few, “I heard that too”s and “are you sure?”s but you smile and enjoy the conversation. You look over your shoulder, to invite John to join this group you’ve found, but you see him in his own cluster of people, telling jokes like always. You know it will be tough, having to deal with Dave leaving so quickly, but you two are strong. You can handle it._

* * *

The planet grows so small outside the window. You watch as it falls away from you, a small dirt-red and blue thing that shrinks with every passing second. You wonder if there’s another shuttle taking John and Jade up to the station in orbit. You wonder if they’re looking for you. You’re caught between hoping they look and hoping they don’t.

You jump when a hand touches your shoulder. You turn around and there’s Eridan, concern in his violet eyes. You know he’s about to say something to try and calm you down, but you don’t want comforting words right now. You lean in and kiss him. You kiss him until he’s kissing you back and then you keep going until you’re struggling to get enough breath through your nose, until you feel his tongue at the back of your mouth, along your teeth and gums, until you’re dizzy and light headed and your knees just about give out under you.

When you break off the kiss, you rest your cheek on his shoulder and smile, “You know,” you try to be as conversational as possible, “I’ve never had sex in space before.”

There’s a pause and then he clears his throat and says, “There’s a first time for everything.”

You lean back and smirk at him.

In a couple of days, you’ll touch base with your friends. In a couple of weeks, you’ll know for sure if you’ll stay with Eridan or if you’ll be going home. In a couple of months, you’ll be traipsing down your new life, whatever it ended up being.

In a couple of years, this decision would eventually, finally, stop aching. 


End file.
